


Barely Legal

by asimplelimadean



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Bar, Destiel - Freeform, Gay Male Character, M/M, Major Character Injury, Major Illness, Smut, Stripper, Stripper!Dean, strip club
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-03-22
Updated: 2016-03-22
Packaged: 2018-05-28 08:20:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,588
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6322027
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/asimplelimadean/pseuds/asimplelimadean
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gabriel takes Castiel out for his twenty-first birthday, but does he get into more than he's bargained for?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Under Pressure (Quite Literally)

**Author's Note:**

> First official fanfic I've written in a while, so don't beat me up if I butcher it. XD I've got a lot in store for you guys.>:) 
> 
> Also, shoutout to my main hoe Teagan and also crandyapple86 for helping me tackle the plot, I couldn't have come up with this without them. <3 
> 
> So well, I hope you enjoy.
> 
> ~Your Darling Author

"Gabriel, this is distasteful." Castiel sat in the passenger's seat of his older brother's beaten up pick-up, popping his knuckles anxiously. Of all places to be on his twenty-first birthday, this definitely wouldn't have been his first choice, but incoincidentally, it wasn't up to him. His smaller, but older brother, was in the driver's seat, so he didn't much of a choice. 

"Ahh, come on, Cassie! You're twenty-one now, it's time to grow up and crawl out of that hole you call an apartment." Gabriel gave a small mocking snort in his direction, staring at the road, "Besides, this is the best strip joint in town, I've been here plenty of times, and it's by far my favorite. I've even got a little something planned." He could feel the smug grin creep onto his brother's face, which he knew meant trouble. Castiel knew he was outmatched, Gabriel could be very persuasive, and he knew he had no other choice but to go. Besides, he was curious as to what this whole 'little something' thing Gabriel mentioned would be.

Cas sighed as they pulled up to a brick building, with a neon-lighted sign that read 'Barely Legal' on it in slightly cursive letters, and he felt a small pang of anxiety rise in his stomach as he stepped out of the pick-up, slamming the door shut. When Gabriel first mentioned 'taking him out' for his birthday, this wasn't at all what he envisioned. He had thought about dinner at a restaurant, like the nice ones that served the warm breadsticks he liked, not a dark-allied club with drunkards hanging outside the doors, waiting for tipsy women to stumble out of the joint, hoping they could get lucky.

It took everything Gabriel had to drag Castiel through the doors of the place, and just a little bit more to get him to actually sit at the bar, as Gabriel stole the seat next to him. Castiel felt extremely uncomfortable in the foreign environment, bright lights, blaring music and the white noise of people holding conversation, and he was beginning to sweat due to the packed bodies in the place. It was so loud they had to shout over the music to actually hear each other, even considering they were nearly two feet away from each other, maybe less. 

"The place is packed tonight!" Gabriel yelled over the deafeningly loud music, and Castiel nodded in response, turning his attention to the crudely set up stage where a scarlet red in scandalous clothing was working the pole with incredulous talent.

Gabriel grinned, nodding at her, "They call her L'il Red, but her name's actually Charlie. She's a sweet girl, but you know, daddy issues." He shrugged his shoulders blatantly, calling the barista over for a rum and coke, offering one to Castiel and he shook his head. No way he wanted to get buzzed tonight. 

He kept his attention on the girl, with platonic interest. She was so young. Her long red hair was down on her shoulders in loose curls, and she was dressed in a skimpy sailor's outfit, which showed major cleavage, and the skirt was short enough to show off her backside. Classic. Castiel sighed apathetically. This night couldn't go by quick enough.

The red finished up her last song on stage, and on que, Gabriel sat up, "Come on, little bro. Time for your birthday surprise." Castiel had honestly forgotten all about it, but raised an eyebrow as he followed Gabriel to sit in one of the plush seats closest to the stage, a nervous pang in his chest.

The lights dimmed long enough for a crew member to pull a chair out to the middle of the stage and a stage light appeared on it, all alone at first. Castiel glanced at Gabriel, who seemed to be more excited than he was honestly. Castiel himself was very confused as to what the hell was going on. 

Suddenly, he heard clunky footsteps, and out walked someone into the light. Castiel skimmed his eyes over the man, interest peaking instantly. He was downright gorgeous. His light-brown hair was styled in effortless messy spikes, and his chiseled jaw was covered in slightly unshaved scruff. He wore tinted-lensed shades, and a leather jacket, along with combat boots making him nearly look like he belonged to security of the building. The only difference between them and him, is this man had this jacket unzipped to the center of his chest, with nothing underneath, which showed off his toned pectorals. But that wasn't all, no. Castiel couldn't divert his eyes from the one thing that tied the costume all together, the tight leather jockstrap that showed off the man's toned legs and ass. 

He stood posed on stage with nothing less than sheer sass, with his arms crossed and his hip cocked to the side. He flashed a mischeviously dangerous smile, and cleared his throat, speaking in a deep, husky voice, "I'm looking for the lucky birthday boy I'll be entertaining tonight."

Castiel's blood ran cold, as he looked at Gabriel with the expression of sheer terror on his face in which he only got Gabriel's smug grin in return. 'Oh, gods in heaven, this can't be happening...' He thought to himself, as Gabriel shoved him persuasively towards the stage, and the male peaked an eyebrow in interest, taking a few steps closer to Castiel.

"Come on now, baby, don't be shy..." He met Castiel at his seat, grabbing his hand and leading him to the seat on the stage. As he was seated, Castiel felt naked, exposed. His heart was hammering against his chest as the music began to play, a song he recognized as 'Grind on Me' by Pretty Ricky. 'Typical,' he thought to himself, and promised himself if he got out of this alive, he was going to kill Gabriel. 

The music began to blare through the speakers, and the man slowly began to unzip the leather jacket the rest of the way, inching closer to Castiel. "I'm about to give you a lap dance that would put exotic dancers to shame."

Castiel swallowed the nervous lump in his throat as the man inched closer, and it felt like the music was swelling, getting louder and louder as the man slid the glasses off of his forehead, revealing beaming emerald eyes that stunned Castiel as the man threw off his leather jacket hastily.

As the music got to it's chorus and the tone swelled, the man was in his lap, so quickly Castiel didn't even have time to prepare himself as the man grinded against his lower regions.

Ass in his lap, the man leaned his head back far enough to where he could teasingly nip his neck, gaining a quick gasp from Castiel, as he somehow still concentrated on the swaying of his hips to the music, and Cas had to admit he was good.

The man quickly turned around and locked concentrated eyes with Castiel as he further worked his hips, running his hands through Castiel's hair sensually.

Castiel could feel Gabriel's sly gaze on him, which made him slightly uncomfortable, along with the rising sexual tension in the air surrounding him.

But it was his birthday. Screw Gabriel, and screw this beautiful man gyrating his hips on Castiel's lap, and he meant that quite literally.

Castiel grabbed the man's hips, raising a dominant eyebrow as he smirked, gaining a teasing smirk in return. The stripper looked amused at him, as he slacked his head back sensually, running his fingers through his own hair and looking at Castiel through half-lidded eyes. "Like what you see, angel?"

Castiel nearly snorted, nodding in return as the music ended and he pouted slightly. The stripper got close to his ear just before he climbed off of him, whispering, "Around here they call me Hunt, but I'll let you call me Dean," he flashed a gloriously sexy smile at him, "Come see me again, angel boy."


	2. Have a Drink, On Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Castiel and Gabriel have a quarrel over events that happened in the previous chapter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahh, I have to admit, the end of this chapter was fun to write, but I've never been drunk, if I messed something up, or something's fuzzy, you can tell me in the comments, and also, don't be afraid to leave feedback, I'm not gonna bite.
> 
> ~Your Darling Author

Castiel walked into the apartment after Gabriel, slamming the door. Gabriel instantly turned around raising a suspicious eyebrow at the sudden burst of rage coming from his little brother. "What's got your panties in a twist?" he asked, snickering playfully.

Castiel looked at him angrily, stepping forward, "You know exactly what's wrong."  
He glared at his older brother. 

Gabriel grinned, shrugging innocently at him, "It was all in good fun, Cassie! You won't ever have to look at him again!" He said defensively, raising his hands. 

"Gabriel, what you did tonight wasn't okay, " he growled frustratedly. He looked at his brother with growing agitation. 

Gabriel sensed the tension, trying to lighten the mood, "Well, I was just taking you out! You need to loosen up every once in a while!" Gabriel said, feeling kind of dejected. Castiel was taking this way more seriously than he had meant, and he had only wanted to let him to relax, considering all Castiel did was work. 

Castiel shook his head angrily, "You don't understand, Gabriel! I didn’t want that! I was uncomfortable and that was disrespectful and it's time to grow up!" he nearly shouted as his words shrouded Gabriel's face with hurt.

Gabriel looked at his feet, "Get out of my apartment."

"Gabe-"

"I said get out."

\----

Castiel took a taxi to the nearest motel, where he planned to stay the night because he lived an hour from Gabriel's apartment, and didn't feel like traveling for that long in a smelly, yellow car. 

The ride to the motel was quiet and Castiel was heavy with grief, and a pounding headache to match. He stared out the window and watched the passing lights absently thinking, 'Maybe Gabriel was right, I do need to lighten up.' He sighed, pressing his head to the window, hoping the cool glass could ease his headache.

The motel wasn’t the best quality, with thin white curtains over the blinds in the single window of the room, and a small box television that only picked up a few cable channels, including Casa Erotica, in the corner across from the bed, which had a neatly folded blue quilt draped over it.

He sulked over to the bed, sitting down and falling into the sheets. He usually loved the quiet, but right now he just felt lonely. He turned the television on to simulate white noise and closed his eyes, hoping he could fall asleep even with the now migraine pounding into his brain.

\----

Castiel sat at the bar, he was in dire need of a drink, and the booze wasn't hitting him fast enough. He laid his head down in his arms.

The bartender looked at him with an amused look. "Girlfriend mad at you or something? Work troubles?" He sat there mixing fruity drinks for three unnaturally blonde women with way too much makeup caked on their faces.

He snorted in his arms. "Something like that, " he handed him another ten dollar bill, "Give me something stronger, straight liquor preferrably." 

The bartender shook his head and smiled empathetically, "These are on the house, man." He poured him a few shots, and Castiel began to feel foggy. 

Twenty minutes later, and Castiel was dancing with strangers. The lights blurred in his vision, as he bounced around between the equally drunk occupants, stopping every once in a while to talk to one of them. This definitely wasn't one of Castiel's most proud moments. The liquor had definitely did the trick because he hadn't even thought about Gabriel and the mess that had happened in his apartment the previous night. He was definitely living in the moment, and would definitely be incredibly hung over in the morning, but he wasn't worried about that right now. The adrenaline was rushing through his viens, and this usually wasn't his idea of fun, but Castiel was having a blast. He felt alive.

He felt a tap on his shoulder, and he looked up to see a beautiful man dressed in leather and plaid, fully clothed since he'd last seen him. "I knew you'd come back to me, angel boy, " he grinned slyly, "and so soon too, good thing though, today I'm off the clock."

Without warning, he grabbed Castiel by the waist, pulling him in close, "May I have this dance?" Castiel grinning but didn't waste any time on the dancing, he forcefully pulled him in quick, pressing a drunken, heated kiss on his lips. 

He pushed back against him startledly, "Whoa-hey dude, you're wasted." He frowned at him, "Look, I'll take you home, come on."

Castiel shook his head, "I'm not one to make drunk decisions. I know what I'm doing. Now kiss me or I am leaving by myself." He looked him daringly straight in the eyes, his deep blue eyes peering duelly into the man's alluring green eyes.

Dean grabbed his hand and lead him closer to the wall, pinning Castiel against it. He hesitated for a second, admiring his crystal blue eyes, and then he leaned in to take his lips hungrily. Castiel kissed him back hard, grabbing onto his waist to keep himself grounded as he pushed back against him dominantly, fighting for control.

Dean could taste the liquor on his breath, and he almost felt he himself was getting drunk on it. Or maybe it was just this kiss. He pressed him further into the wall, grinning as he leaned forward to bite the smaller man's bottom lip, pleased at the nearly nonexistent sound he made. Oh, but it definitely was there. 

Castiel broke the kiss, and a small trail of saliva connecting their lips soon broke as well. He couldn't care there were hundreds of people standing around them, _that_ was an amazing kiss. "My name is Castiel, by the way."

Dean chuckled breathlessly looking at the flushed man, his face blush red and his lips lust-swollen. "Castiel..." he pondered on it, liking the way his name rolled off his tongue. "You keep kissing me like that and I might just fall in love with you.”


	3. Livin' On a Prayer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A little look on what Dean does outside of work.

It was Sunday. Dean's favorite day of the week by far, considering he got every Sunday off, which Dean got to spend most of the day doing normal things like grocery shopping and going to the park, and also getting to visit his brother for a few hours, who he only got to see once a week, which is accurate considering the copious amounts of overtime he's been taking because God knows they need the money. 

Dean woke up at around 10 o'clock in the morning to 'Highway to Hell' by ACDC blaring in his ears, and he immediately cursed at the sunlight that shown through the blinds into his eyes. The grogginess and exhaustion from a long night at work hit him as he threw the pillow over his head but never turned off the alarm, a constant reminder to himself playing that he needed to get out of bed, so he could visit with his baby brother. 

After what seemed to be a few minutes, Dean climbed out of bed and put on his worn blue jeans, a simple forest green mid-elbow shirt, and his signature leather jacket, went through the morning dress routine that consisted of brushing his teeth, having a few swigs out of a bottle of whiskey which he planned to carry in with him, and made sure no spurs of hair were sticking up before he slipped on his boots and made his way to the Impala.

The droning beeps of machinery and familiar, boring white walls of the hospital hit his senses as he stared at his younger sibling laying quietly, staring at him in his bed. Dean smiled at him pitifully and coughed, breaking the awkward silence being held between the two, "How ya holding up, Sammy?"

Sam looked up at him with dark, sunken eyes, smiling hollowly at him, nonetheless pleased because with Dean's busy schedule, he still comes to see him, "I'm holding." He chuckled lightly, which turned   
into a deafening cough in mere seconds as Dean winced and frowned at him.

"You know what I mean, man. How are you feeling?" He looked worriedly at his little brother, the familiar sting of tears threatening to pour out that Dean blinked away quickly before Sam could notice, the tightness gripping at his throat that made it hard for him to breathe.

Sam glanced away from his brother, frowning in return, "I'm the same, I guess. It isn't getting worse. Plus, these are one of my good days." He said, shrugging plainly, trying to reassure him. He knew Dean was doing all he could, and that visiting him every weekend was taking an emotional toll on the man.

Dean nodded and turned his attention to the paint chipping off of the paste white wall, not able to look at him anymore, his voice strained, "Well, that's good."

The small talk was nearly unbearable for Sam though, and he sighed, giving a sympathetic smile, "How's work been? I know you've been taking on more shifts lately. Don't overwork yourself because of me. I'll call down to the restaurant and make sure they give you days off myself." 

Dean forced a chuckle, shaking his head and glancing at the floor, "That's not necessary, little brother. I'm fine."

Sam looked at him and growled in a stern voice, "Dean."

In response, Dean looked up at him sorrowfully, returning his brother's stern gaze, "Really, Sam. I'm fine."

Sam sighed and turned his head over on the pillow, shaking his head, trying to avert from Dean's face because he could feel the burning at his eyes, the tears threatening to pour over. All of this medicine was making him soft. And drowsy, for that matter. Sam squeezed his eyes shut to blink away tears and drifted into a haze immediately, a rush of dizziness and drowsiness washing over him immediately, and he welcomed the sleep, too weak to fight it.

Dean tore his gaze away from his brother and stared at the floor, sitting in silence until he glanced up to see Sam with his eyes shut, his breathing hitched and his blood ran cold when he didn't immediately get even a slight movement in response to him, "Sam?"

No response.

Dean stood up frantically from the leather chair, "Sam! Nurse!" He shouted, immediately granted by a just as frantic nurse with short brown hair who joined at his brother's bedside.

She ran some basic tests, making sure he was breathing properly and blood pressure and such hadn't been affected in the last hour since she had checked it and she sighed with relief at the sight of Sam, "He's just sleeping, it's fine. The machines would let you know if there was a problem, sir. This is all taking a toll on him is all. He's tired." She answered quietly.

He nodded and breathed out, his heart pounding in his chest. He needed some air.

 

Dean took a seat on the rusted park bench in front of the hospital which overlooked the crowded streets full of the bustle of people in a hurry to get to their next destination. Dean sat in self-pitying silence; he hated lying to Sam. He really did. Dean knew being a stripper was easy cash, and with medical bills rolling in and him having to pay rent and buy food and other important things to live on, he knew working at the old diner with Ellen and Jo wasn't going to cut it. He just didn't want Sam to worry. He could handle this. He was Dean Winchester. He raised Sam after Mary and John died, and he could take care of him now. 

_It all started with a cough. Sam had a cough. It was pretty mild, but Sam had reassured Dean he was fine. It had to have been just a cold. Dean shrugged it off, not giving much thought to it, but now he wish he had. One day, the cough had been so bad, Sam had coughed up blood, and Dean demanded he had go to the hospital. They diagnosed him at first with a bad sinus infection, and gave him antibiotics. They came back a month later because the symptoms were becoming worse, and they finally rediagnosed him. He had stage three bronchogenic carcinoma. Sam had never smoked in his life; oh, how cruel the world could be. Sam spent the next few months never leaving the hospital, and the medical bills were piling up. That was when Dean decided it was time for a better paying job, and he needed it quick._

The cool air was relieving, but not enough to help him swallow the rising lump in his throat. He was trying not to cry, but damn, he was overwhelmed by all of this. He tried to think of positive things, after all, Sam was still kicking, he had a chance to fight this, and Sam was one hell of a fighter. 

He tried to think of other positives, but when he couldn't find any, his brain mulled over to the man that he had met at the club. He wanted to get to know him. He wanted to see him again. Hell, that could be good for him considering what he really needed right now was a distraction. He decided to get a drink and see if, maybe, on a miracle, he would be at the bar again. Hopefully he wanted to see him just as badly as Dean did.


End file.
